Intolerance. The great divide. The mainstream media spinning and smearing and slamming in it’s sidebar’s of shame/ as it wrings the dirty droplets of holy truth-water from the same used rag / until the water is so muddied that all is left is a vilified smudge / a portrait of a man composed of half-heard lies and once-thought-wishes. a mere phantom, to be lauded or scrupled and pulled apart limb by limb, reassembled into a horror-story collage of a person
MeanWHILE We are all so apathetically opinionated (just words on a screen) Braving the battlefield, anonymous icons in the war of words./Noone has a monopoly on truth but we are so self-righteous/ As mine is the only way and Faith is the answer/ We have been handed a potato-peeler which we think is a gun, eventually we will work it out, after we’ve sheared ourselves of our not so thick- skins.. / Keyboard warriors, shielded by screens, as the real war goes on outside where we can’t hear their screams. When the bomb hits like reality, where will those words be to keep your enemies in check?
Opinions, they rage and they fly and they birth and they kill. We are all so very certain, you can feel it, the physical certainty. The physical certainty which starts and ends wars/ Which justifies killing and death of the OTHER / But when the truth is subjective and the facts are mangled, noone can be sure that their certainty is not founded, on lies and slander and chinese whispers.
Swallowing down the lump of rage, that furrows your throat and sticks in your brow / Everyone is so AFRAID / And they’d have us kill each other if they could, scuffling in the trenches of Cameron’s Britain. Tolerance is Power because what could they do, if we all agreed to disagree and helped each other feel (alive)